


Quid Pro Quo

by starslinger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-07 01:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starslinger/pseuds/starslinger
Summary: Hermione develops an affliction. Bellatrix has an addiction. They come to a mutual understanding.





	1. AB Negative

The Cauldron is packed tonight.

She’d forgotten the Quidditch match was on — mistake number one. Mistake number two was not Flooing ahead to ask Bill to reserve her usual table, which was now engulfed by teenagers drunk off Butterbeers and shoving tongues down each other’s throat. 

She might as well make a third mistake tonight, but didn’t think she’d find anyone here.

A small brawl breaks out between two idiot men wearing their hats backwards. As they’re carted off by the bouncer, she spots her, and vice versa. The fight had drawn their eyes to the same point, and now they are on each other. 

She’s a (fair) bit younger, but her eyes are tired. Slightly shorter. Tawny hair up in a haphazard bun. She’s—

_My type_ , Bella’s brain auto-completes. _My type mytype mytypemypetmytype._

There’s a moment where the girl seems to recognize her, and a fear flickers through Bella’s chest that this might be over before it’s begun. But then she simply blushes and looks away. 

Bellatrix grins. Fear would have been difficult, but this she can work with. “Bill,” she calls to the bartender without tearing her eyes from her prey.

Despite the crowded bar and sea of drunks loudly begging for his attention, he hears her. “What’ll it be, Bells?”

“Bottle of cab, if you please, darling. ’42.” 

His ginger eyebrows shoot up with a grin. “Not messing around tonight, eh? Who’s the lucky…” his eyes follow hers and rest on the girl, face still flushed as if she knows she’s been caught, trying her very best to not look anywhere at all ever again. “Ah.” He expertly flips a bottle off the shelf and uncorks it with a practiced hand, sliding it over to her with two glasses.

She looks at him then, smirking gratefully. “Thank you, love.”

He winks. “Be good.” 

Bellatrix cackles and throws a hundred pounds on the table. “The rest of your tip’s coming later.” Bill pockets it, blowing her a kiss. She takes her winnings and saunters across the bar. 

“Excuse me,” she purrs. The girl, back since turned to her, rotates very slowly. She goes even pinker, and gulps. 

“Hello,” she says, rather flatly. Bellatrix balks. Has she miscalculated? 

Pressing on anyway, she drawls, “I’ve recently come into possession of a very nice bottle of wine, and I’d hate to have to drink it alone.”

The girl purses her lips, and Bella is unnerved again, until she realizes she’s trying to keep them from twitching into a smile. The silence stretches long enough for Bella to cock her head and raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Oh!” the girl exclaims. “Did you want an answer?” She tilts her head to mirror Bellatrix. “It’s just that it didn’t sound like much of a question.”

Bellatrix splutters, a stunned little laugh, the girl’s mettle unexpected but not unwelcome. “Alright then,” she says, adjusting her shoulders and dramatically holding out a glass with a bow. “Would you, if you don’t mind, do me the great honor of perhaps enjoying this lovely bottle of wine with me, only if it pleases you, miss…?”

A sheepish smile is her reward. “Hermione,” she concedes, taking a glass. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you.” Bellatrix doesn’t lower her eyes while she pours, or as they clink, or as they sip. 

At the first drops on her tongue, Hermione’s eyes widen. “That is very nice wine.” Up close, those eyes are even more tired than Bellatrix expected, bruised half-moons rimming lovely brown pools. The poor (but still very pretty) little thing looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. 

Eventually, the girl asks the question she knew was coming. “And you are?” 

Bella very nearly answers honestly, until she recalls the inkling of near-recognition — or suspicion — on the girl’s face when they first locked eyes. “Andromeda,” she lies, extending her hand.

Hermione shakes it. “Pleasure.”

“You have no idea…” Bellatrix murmurs. She didn’t entirely mean to say it aloud, but the deep crimson blush that bleeds over the girl in response makes her not even sorry. “Now, I come here all the time but I’ve never seen you before…and I’m certain I would remember,” she can’t resist throwing in. The girl cannot handle compliments well and it’s delicious. “Do you live nearby?”

“Not too far. I actually used to work at a shop nearby, but I … I don’t get out very much during the day anymore.”

Leaning in, without missing a beat, Bella whispers conspiratorially, “All the best fun happens at night, anyway.”

Bellatrix can’t help but smile as the girl clears her throat and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, recovering. “You’re very forward.”

“I know what I want.”

“So soon? I could be anyone. You might want to slow down. There may be things about me you don’t like.”

Bella clasps her hand to her chest in mock indignation. “You think we’re moving too fast? I would never want to be accused of any… impropriety.” 

Hermione laughs. Bellatrix detects a little hesitancy, but more intrigue. So she presses on. “Shall we get to know each other a bit better, then?” She takes a step closer to the girl, who doesn’t back away. “I’ll ask you a very personal question. And then, if I am satisfied with your answer, you may ask me one in return.”

“If you’re satisfied with my answer?” Hermione echoes, playfully aghast. “Why is it you get to make all the rules?” 

“Alright then, I’ll answer regardless,” Bellatrix smirks, inclining her forehead so it nearly touches Hermione’s. “You have my word.”

The girl’s dark-rimmed eyes stare back into hers. “Alright,” she agrees slowly, sipping her wine purposefully. “But I want to go first.”

Bella flicks her eyes down to Hermione’s wine-stained lips and back up again. “Deal.” 

She doesn’t know what she’d expected her to ask. Something sexual, ideally. Something purposefully innocuous, more likely. But she can see the girl’s mind working as she studies Bella’s face and instead asks…

“What’s your blood type?”

Bellatrix makes to answer and stops. Something tells her it’s not as innocent an inquiry as it seems.

And then it hits her all at once. The exhausted eyes. “I don’t get out very much during the day anymore.” And now her blood type. 

It’s not very much to go on, granted, but having a similarly afflicted sister has given her an instinct for these sorts of things.

“AB negative,” she replies softly. 

The expanding pupils in those sleepy eyes are the last clue she needs. A pleasantly surprised grin bleeds out very slowly over Bellatrix’s face. The girl pales in a trice, not needing any words to know she’s been caught. 

Bellatrix goes in for the kill. Clearing the final inch of space between them, she gently presses Hermione into the wall behind them, and snakes a hand around her little waist. “And now I have a question for you, Hermione,” she breathes into her ear. The girl is trembling.

“Would you like a taste?”

Hermione lets out a breathy cry and sags against her. Bellatrix chuckles triumphantly, positively delighted by this turn of events. She turns the girl’s quivering chin towards her with a long, pale finger. She looks so helpless. Bella leans in very slowly and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She takes a twitchy hand in her own and presses it against her throat. Now the girl can feel her heartbeat. “Hmm?” 

Anguish and desire gaze painfully back up her. She must be new. 

Hermione nods weakly. Desire wins out. 

“Excellent,” Bellatrix purrs, and Apparates them both away. 

 

They reenter time and space in her bedchamber. Hermione yelps and nearly falls to the floor, but Bella catches her.

“How did you—I didn’t think—“ the girl gulps for air. “You’re not supposed to be able to Apparate in and out of there.” 

Bellatrix smirks as she steadies her. “I told you, I’m a regular. The rules are different for me.”

She can see Hermione still trying to work through the logistics, trying to distract from the moment. Bella takes her face in her hands and forces her to meet her gaze. “You fret too much.”

Hermione lets out a shaky breath. “And you don’t fret enough.” 

Bellatrix has to laugh at that. “I don’t make offers I don’t intend to keep.” The girl shakes her head at that. 

“You shouldn’t… we shouldn’t… I shouldn’t …”

Poor wretch. Bellatrix envelops her again, and the girl relaxes despite her hesitation. “Stop telling yourself what shouldn’t happen,” the older woman commands quietly. She pulls back to examine that exhausted face again. “How long has it been?”

A long sigh is Hermione’s initial response. Bellatrix wonders if anyone has ever asked her this before. “A week.”

Bella gives a little gasp, runs a finger down her face. “Oh, you poor thing,” Bella coos, and the girl can’t help but flush again at the sympathy, even though she resists, trying to pull away. 

“No, no, it’s not — I shouldn’t — I mean I can’t — it’s not right — “

“Says who?” Bellatrix asks, grasping her chin more firmly. “You need it. And, fortunately for you and that guilty little heart of yours…I quite like it.” 

Her words freeze Hermione at once. “You…you do?” 

Bella smiles. “I do.”

Hermione frowns, her breathing ragged, contemplating the situation. “I’ve never met… I didn’t know anyone could like it.”

Perfect. Bella moves forward again, circling her waist with both arms, pulling her in. “Then it’s our lucky night.” She angles her head for a kiss. “We can both make each other happy.”

The girl’s hands come up to rest tentatively against her chest, bracing herself, not ready for the kiss just yet. “I won’t…you’ll tell me if it hurts?”

A rush of affection floods through Bellatrix as she chuckles, “Darling, I like the pain.”

“But too much, I mean,” Hermione insists, beginning to panic. “I don’t want you to — I don’t know if I — I can’t —“ Bella cuts her off, hushing her, smoothing down her hair to calm her down. 

“It’s alright,” Bellatrix soothes. “I know my limits.” When the girl goes to retort, she puts a finger on her lips, anticipating the response. “And I’m decently sure I can guess yours. You’re a bit of an open book, love.”

Hermione allows herself an unsteady laugh, burying her face into Bella’s chest. She is held there for a moment before drawing back up, looking into the woman’s dark, endless eyes. 

“I promise, I…I won’t do any real damage,” the girl whispers. 

Bella nods, giving her the illusion of acquiescence, as if Bella was the one who needed convincing. “I know you won’t.” 

Their eyes hold steady for a few moments more. When Bella leans down again, Hermione does not resist. 

 

The women are in bed for some time before it happens. Hermione seems to enjoy being below the older woman’s body, though she’ll need to be on top for what they actually came here to do. But Bella doesn’t mind. She loves the way Hermione shivers when she runs her dark curls all over her supple skin. She suckles happily on pert young breasts, eagerly anticipating what Hermione will suck out of her. Bella runs her long, pale fingers through sopping wet folds and sucks the remnants off greedily. She kisses Hermione again, slowly returning the girl’s taste with her swirling tongue. 

“Do you like that?” she murmurs against her lips, never quite detaching herself, too hungry to part from her. “Do you like the way you taste?”

Hermione moans at the slight dirty talk and nods. “Yes,” she breathes. “I like it.”

Bella plunges into her mouth again, stealing her breath. “As do I…I like it very much,” she growls. “In fact, I like it so much I’m going to fuck your sweet, tasty little pussy with my tongue until you’re positively weak with pleasure…” Hermione mewls and tightens her arms around the woman, trembling like a flower in the wind. “…And then, to give you back your strength, you will taste me.”

Their eyes meet. Any trace of hesitation in Hermione’s eyes dies. She wants this as much as Bella does.

“Please,” she begs. “Yes. _Please._ ”

Bellatrix grins as she ravishes the girl’s neck, growing wetter at the thought of the girl doing this to her in return shortly. Hermione is a breathless, starving mess and she loves it. Bella begins to get a bit rougher, rolling her nipples between her teeth, gripping her hips tightly, pushing flush against the girl and moving her so they writhe in unison. Hermione’s cries grow higher in pitch and Bella begins to worry she’ll finish herself off if they wait much longer. She shimmies down the bed and loops her hands around Hermione’s hips, hauling her down the bed. The girl gives a little yelp, surprised at the woman’s strength, but it turns into an exalting sigh as the warmth of Bellatrix’s mouth finally descends where she needs it most.

She can’t help the sounds that escape her. Bellatrix appears to be an expert. Normally this would trap her in a case of anxieties in her own head, worrying about how many other people a lover had taken to bed, but this woman has allowed her to transcend thought. She is all reflex, all nerves, her entire being distilled down to her center. Bella begins by laving her tongue in long, firm, slow strokes, from taint to clit, over and over again, licking dominion over Hermione’s cunt, as if teaching it how to respond to its new mistress. 

Hermione sobs, tangling her hands in Bella’s mane. The woman growls at that, beginning to suckle harder at her folds. She increases her pressure slowly, humming as she takes her labia and massages every inch of it between her lips, working up towards her clit and back down again. Hermione keens like a kitten. “Please—! Please go back! Go back, gobackgoback—”

Bella flicks her clit with her finger as punishment for interrupting her. The girl yelps, her hips bucking. Bella clamps them down again and presses kisses along her inner thighs, teasing her, torturing her. She whispers a tiny, useful little spell that Hermione is hopeless to hear over her own tearful begging. She won’t be much use for dirty talk the next few minutes, but it will certainly do the job. Hermione gasps for breath and cries as Bella slides her slightly engorged, elongated tongue inside her. 

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhmygod ohmygod ohmygod…. Andromeda!”

Bellatrix freezes inside her for a moment, prompting a wail from Hermione. She’d completely forgotten about her unfortunate, buzzkilling pseudonym. Worth it, she supposes, to have gotten her this far. She shrugs it off and begins to slide in and out, slowly, then gradually picking up the pace. She begins to fondle the girl’s clit, rolling it gently between her thumb and index finger. 

“Harder, please, please, harder…” Bellatrix obliges, tonguing harder, fucking Hermione thoroughly. Her magical tongue is extra sensitive, like the tip of a cock, and she enjoys feeling the girl’s hot, tight, slippery sweet walls clamping down on her, and how her entire body seizes when she strokes that spongy spot on her deepest, innermost walls. She slips her clit beneath her hot lips, massaging it as she sucks languidly. She nibbles at it like a delicious little hard candy treat, still allowing Hermione to ride her enchanted tongue. That finally makes Hermione’s legs shake and she comes with the force of a hurricane, dripping against Bella’s chin. 

Bella wriggles her tongue around a little longer, both to savor the girl’s taste and to drive her wild through the aftershocks. She takes one last lingering lick up her folds and around her clit before removing the spell and crawling back up Hermione’s exhausted body. She kisses her fiercely and strokes her weeping pussy with her long fingers. Unexpectedly, she drives two in, then three, beginning to pump slowly.

“I….ohh,” Hermione sighs, drawing her legs around Bella’s waist, her arms around her neck. “I don’t know if….can’t take much more….”

Bella pecks her lips and withdraws her fingers, petting Hermione’s folds instead. “That’s alright, my beautiful girl.” She smoothes her hair back. “Now…are you ready for your treat?”

Hermione’s eyes widen at the reminder. She licks her dry lips. Then she lunges for Bella and reverses their positions, causing the older woman to laugh delightedly. She kisses Bella all over, but it takes her a few tries to get comfortable settling into the flesh of her neck. Hermione pauses there, lingering, panting.

“It’s okay,” Bella murmurs encouragingly, petting her hair as she clutches her against her throat. “It’s okay, baby. Take what you need.”

It has the opposite desired effect. Hermione’s head snaps up, forehead nearly smacking into Bella’s jaw. Her brow is furrowed, her eyes still anguished. “Wh-what?”

Bella frowns back, pouts a little. She doesn’t understand the girl’s stubborn reluctance to take something she desires so much, and Bella has so willingly given.

“You heard me.” It’s too soft to be a challenge.

Hermione shakes her head, tears springing to her eyes. “You don’t….you don’t even know me.” 

A smile breaks out over Bella’s face, a little laugh. “Oh, darling,” she chuckles. “I know you better than you could possibly imagine.”

“I don’t understand…” the tears escape. Bella catches them with her long fingers, sweeps them away, kisses the trails dry. “Why are you doing this?”

Bella pulls her lips back from Hermione’s cheek, cupping it with her palm instead. The poor creature. “Don’t you trust me?”

Hermione nods as if by reflex, then catches herself, flushing at how quickly she admitted that. “But why…how can you trust me?”

A small, sad noise of understanding leaves Bella’s throat. “Oh….” her eyes take in every inch of Hermione’s face, finally seeing her in earnest. “Sweet girl. I know what you are—“ these words are met with a whimper, as though they’re an accusation — “—shhh, no, no. I see you. I know…others like you. Some of them very well. And I promise you will not hurt me.”

She runs a finger over the girl’s trembling rose petal lips, catching more tears. 

“I see you,” Bella whispers again.

That does it. The last of Hermione’s resolve cracks as she sobs, allowing Bellatrix to pull her down and cradle her against her throat once more. She’s still crying, gasping against her skin. Bella shivers in delighted anticipation. “Go on now,” she coaxes. “It’s alright.”

Hermione slowly, shakily opens her mouth. Her breathing grows less frantic as Bella’s sure, steady presence soothes her, one hand in her hair, the other at her back, rubbing reassuring circles.

“Yes,” Bellatrix hisses. “There you are.”

At last, she feels the brush of fangs at her pulse. The girl seems to steel herself, inhales sharply once, then clamps home.

A deep, throaty moan escapes Bellatrix. Finally. “Good girl, Hermione,” she exalts. “There’s my good girl…”

Something — her words, or the ruby rushing into her mouth — stirs Hermione to life, and she begins to grind into Bellatrix’s knee. The woman thrills at that, crying out and looping a leg around the girl’s waist, seeking out her own pleasure. She adjusts Hermione’s position so they become joined at the sex, heat pressed against heat, slipping against each other wonderfully.

Hermione moans, and Bella feels the red heat dripping down the side of her throat. She clamps the girl’s ass in both hands and grinds her down steadily. Hermione sucks, making Bellatrix’s eyes roll back in her head.

The pace of Hermione’s tongue quickens with the pace of their hips. The pressure on Bellatrix’s throat and cunt mounts until…

Hermione withdraws with a gasp as they begin to come together, blood weeping from of Bella’s neck, clits pulsing against one another. Immediately, Hermione reaches for her wand and seals the wound. She buries her bloodstained face in Bella’s throat, pressing her lips to the closed wound over and over again as Bella encloses her tightly in her arms. They cling to one another as they reach their peak, sweating, gasping, and then begin the descent down, grinding slowly, warm legs tangling together, noses nuzzling. They kiss more slowly than before, the tastes of Hermione’s cum and Bellatrix’s blood mingling eerily.

They break apart and look into each other’s eyes for only a moment before Hermione collapses off to Bellatrix’s side, completely spent. They lie there in silence, catching their breath, both reeling from the best fuck either had had in some time. 

After a few moments, Hermione’s anxiety and shame begin to settle in her chest. She curls up in on herself, and just as Bellatrix reaches for her, she swings her legs over the bed as if to get up.

“What are you doing?” Bellatrix asks, bewildered.

Hermione can’t look at her. “I…we’re finished, yes? I really… I really can’t thank you enough, but I just figured… I should be going…” she makes to stand up but Bellatrix is faster, sliding her arms around her waist and retracting her back against soft warmth.

“Just what makes you think I’d let you go anywhere?” the woman mumbles into Hermione’s ear. “And are you in such a hurry to be rid of me?”

The girl blushes at the unexpected affection. “No…. not at all. I just thought—“

“Don’t,” Bellatrix yawns, tangling their legs together again and pressing a kiss to the side of Hermione’s throat. “Don’t think. You think far too much, and far too loudly. Just stay here with me.” 

With a final reassuring squeeze of Bellatrix’s arms, Hermione finally lets the tension slip out of her. This was, to say the least, not what she expected when she turned up to treat herself for a drink tonight, but with the woman’s warm breath on her ear, her hand protectively on her breast, and her delectable blood lingering on her tongue, she can’t say she’s sorry about a thing.

They drift off to sleep, both suspecting this could be the start of a beautiful symbiotic relationship.


	2. Fast Friends

Bright light, the kind that makes you squint even with your eyes closed, is what wakes Hermione. Disoriented and groggy, she begins shifting to life, becoming aware of another form wrapped around hers. What…?

She cranes her neck backward to peer behind her. One glimpse of black curls is all it takes for the night comes flooding back. Oh…

Hermione can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. How nice it was to wake up entangled with a beautiful woman in the the morni—

Her heart stops. Morning.

With a yelp, she makes to tumble off her side of the bed, before realizing she’d be stepping into the pool of sunlight on the floor. She changes course at the last minute, diving off the other side—and briefly crushing Bellatrix, who wakes with a grunt of surprise.

Hermione cowers under the bed, adrenaline pumping too high from her close call for her to feel embarrassed.

That is, until Bellatrix leans over the edge of the mattress, peering down perplexedly at her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hermione echoes sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I — the sunlight. I can’t…” Bellatrix interrupts her with a laugh. Her cheeks flush as the shame starts to settle in, the utter shame of this stunning woman having seen her so vulnerable in one capacity, and now another — and if she’s being honest, she’s bitter that her new condition prevented her from enjoying the slow, intimate morning after that normal people get to have. 

Tears begin to well up in her eyes entirely against her will. That stops Bella’s laughter at once. “Oh, darling. I didn’t mean to tease. Come here, let me show you.” She reaches out her hand.

Hermione swipes irritatedly at her eyes, begrudgingly accepting the outstretched hand and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet—and then flush against Bellatrix again, blushing down at the woman still sitting on the bed. Bella plants a quick kiss to her sternum before hopping up herself and guiding the girl over to the window. They’re nearly there when Hermione balks, Bella bumping into her from behind. “Hermione,” she says firmly. “Do you really think after the lovely night we’ve just shared that I’m about to fry you?”

“I don’t know!” Hermione exclaims, flustered. “We’ve only just met. I don’t know what sick morning after rituals you might be into.”

Bella laughs. “I can assure you, I don’t intend to sacrifice you.” She slides her arms around her waist and purrs in her ear. “That would be an unforgivable waste.”

Hermione sighs, leans her head back against the woman’s shoulder for a moment. “Alright.”

“Alright.” Bella kisses her temple before guiding her the last few steps to the window. They’ve crossed well into the pool of sunlight now, and Hermione examines her hands, her feet, any skin she can see. No sign of damage — apart from the shaft of scars that strike across her left hand. Bellatrix senses her hesitation and takes that hand in her own, pressing it to her mouth. “You’ve been burned before.”

Hermione nods, allowing the woman to massage the singed skin. “Here too,” she says quietly, gesturing towards another mark on her shoulder, not as intense. Bellatrix moves her hair aside to kiss there, too. Hermione can’t understand why she’s being so gentle with her, so attentive. She’s so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she doesn’t realize Bella is taking her hand and putting it towards the glass of the window. “Hey—!”

She’s pressed up against the windowpane. It should be scalding. It isn’t. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Bellatrix echoes with a chuckle. “Trust me yet?”

“Almost.” Pressed between the glass and Bella’s hand, Hermione wiggles her fingers experimentally, marvelling at the complete lack of heat. “How are you doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything. I had enchanted glass installed for this specific purpose.”

Hermione turns in her arms, eyebrows raised. “For me?” 

That earns her a playful swat on the bottom. “Cheeky. No. Didn’t I tell you last night I know others like you?” Bellatrix asked, taking a thread of the girl’s hair in her fingers.

“Yes,” Hermione says slowly. “But…are _you_ …?” 

Bella laughs. “No. But there are enough of them in my life I’d rather not see burnt to a crisp in my house.” The girl’s hair is so soft. She decides to tip her hand. “My sister.” 

That surprises Hermione. “Really?”

“Really really.” Bella tilts her head. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”

A slow smile spreads over Hermione’s face. “Not til later.”

“How much later?”

“Much later.”

“Hmmm. She’s coming over for tea today. My sister.”

“Oh.” Hermione pinks, looking over to her pile of discarded clothes across the room. “I can—“

Bella redirects her chin, locking their eyes. “Don’t look over there. Don’t look at those.”

“What? I’ll go! I don’t want to intrude!”

“No, no, no,” Bella insists. “I want you to meet one another. She can show you the ropes. She’s good at that. And it certainly does seem like you could use some… guidance.” She tilting the girl’s head back and inhaling the skin at her throat. Hermione turns again to summon her clothes, and Bella nips her in punishment. “Stop. You’re never putting those on again.”

Hermione laugh turns into a sigh as Bella nibbles playfully. “I’m not meeting your sister naked.”

“Who said anything about that, you little pervert?” Bellatrix asks in mock shock, lifting Hermione up and depositing her on the bed with a squeal. “We’ve got hours til she arrives.”

As Bella trails her hair along her skin, making her giggle and gasp, Hermione can’t help but think this is the most fun she’s had during daylight hours in a long time.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The sun is halfway across the sky when Narcissa arrives. 

“Wait here,” Bellatrix tells a now clothed Hermione, who is, bizarrely, chatting happily with the house-elf brewing their tea. _Strange girl_ , Bella thinks, shaking her head and going to fetch her sister from the foyer.

“Cissy,” she greets, kissing her sister on each cheek and summoning another elf to take her coat. 

“Hello Bella,” the blonde woman responds distractedly, sniffing the air. “Is someone else here?”

Bellatrix grins. “I’ve made a new friend.”

Narcissa sighs, rolling her eyes. “For Merlin’s _sake_ , Bellatrix, just tell me when these things happen so I don’t come all the way over here —“

“No, no, I think you’ll like this one,” Bella says mischievously, leading her sister back through the manor towards the kitchen. “She’s like you.”

That sends Narcissa’s eyebrows skyrocketing to the top of her head. “ _She?_ And what do you mean like — oh!” 

Bella nods. “Recently converted, no idea what she’s doing. I can’t understand how the poor thing’s managed not to kill herself.”

“Oh dear,” Narcissa says with genuine sympathy. “I’m sure I can help. Where does she live? Has she changed her windows? Brewed the potions? Altered her clothing? Has she —“

“You’re overestimating her entirely,” Bellatrix snorts. “She keeps burning herself. Hasn’t got a clue. Don’t overwhelm her — one thing at a time.” 

Narcissa eyes her suspiciously. “Does she have any clue who you are?”

“No she does not,” Bella answers firmly. They’re nearly at the kitchen. She adds quickly, “Oh, and she thinks my name is Andromeda.”

She sweeps back in to Hermione, still speaking with the elf, leaving her sister spluttering in the doorway.

“Hermione, darling,” she says, fully interrupting their conversation. “Meet my sister Narcissa.” Irritated though she is at the information sprung on her, Bellatrix has to give her sister credit for the quick recovery. She glides into the room and meets Hermione’s anxious smile with a warm one of her own.

“Hello, Hermione,” Narcissa greets, smoothly sliding into the chair beside Hermione (and ignoring Bella’s “I was sitting there”). She takes her hand in her own. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Hermione manages to return the sentiment, though it's difficult to hear over Bella making a show of noisily scraping another chair across the floor to her other side.

“I understand you’ve recently begun a very exciting chapter in your life,” Narcissa says conspiratorially, leaning in, eyes sparkling. 

Hermione gives a nervous little laugh. “I suppose so.”

“That’s wonderful,” Narcissa encourages kindly. “But it’s a rather monumental adjustment, yes?”

Bellatrix gives a barking laugh. “I’ll say. When you first turned you couldn’t get out of bed for a month and then slaughtered an entire village.”

That earns Bellatrix a sharp glance from her sister. “B— _Andromeda_ ,” she hisses, furious that she’s become complicit in this ridiculous lie. “There’s no need to make it sound so crass.”

“It was crass,” Bellatrix pouts. “I’m not making it _sound_ like anything. Your screams were awful,” she added, shuddering as she dips a biscuit into her tea.

Hermione’s been awfully quiet, and Narcissa turns her attention back to her. “Now, B—" she catches herself again, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth before continuing. “My sister tells me you’re still a bit in the dark —" she ignores Bella’s snort — “on the transition. Is that right?”

Nodding, Hermione looks down to her mug of tea. “I’ve burnt myself a few times,” she admits sheepishly. “The glass in these windows…I didn’t even know things like that existed.”

“And why would you! There’s no need for it—until you need it,” Narcissa sympathizes. “Where do you live? Do you have a roommate? Someone you’d trust enough to tell? Or at least someone dim enough to buy a lie about why you’re changing the windows?” 

Hermione lets herself grin at that, but it quickly sours. “That’s, ah…part of the problem, actually. When I…turned…” she looks at Bellatrix, as if confirming she’s repeating the term correctly. “I was in bed for ages too. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. But I couldn’t go to work, so I couldn’t pay my rent. And I…got evicted.”

The sisters stare at her blankly. “Evicted?” Narcissa echoes.

“Rent?” Bellatrix parrots.

“Yes.” Hermione looks between them, waiting for something to click. _Surely they…?_ Then again, they’re sitting in a manor enjoying a meal prepared by servants. “I…well, I didn’t own the property, so I paid month to month to live there. When I stopped making money I couldn’t do that anymore, and so…I got kicked out, essentially.”

Narcissa and Bellatrix turn to each other, horrified at such an inconceivable thought. Then they descend on her, consoling.

“Oh, you poor thing!” 

“Surely that’s illegal!”

“The very thought —“

“Does the idiot who threw you out have any idea what you’re capable of now?”

“So where have you been staying, then?” Narcissa presses.

Touched by the sympathy but amused by how utterly out of touch they are, Hermione can’t help but smile a little. “On the couch of a friend nearby. Well, actually—“ she looks around — “I don’t know where exactly we are now. But it was not too far from — where we met,” she stammers, blushing as she buries her face in her mug. 

“Last night,” Bellatrix finishes, smirking. Narcissa kicks her. “Ouch! Come off it, Cissy, we’ve become fast friends, haven’t we, love?” Hermione blushes deeper under her gaze, but acquiesces with a little nod. “As a matter of fact,” Bella drawls, draping an arm across Hermione’s shoulders. “You should get off what I’m certain is a flea-infested couch and come stay with me.”

Startled, Hermione nearly drops her mug. “Oh! No. No, that’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t possibly—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Cissy says, surprising them both. “You shouldn’t be on your own while you’re working through this. Bella’s got plenty of experience with this, and I’d be more than happy to help you as well.” 

“Please, pet,” Bella pouts. “Don’t leave me in this big house all by my lonesome.”

Hermione looks between the two. She knows she’s going to agree before she does, and can’t understand why she’s giving in so quickly, why she trusts these women so easily. 

“Alright,” she says slowly, earning a clap of delight from Narcissa and a kiss on the cheek from Bellatrix. 

“Lovely,” Bella purrs, taking Hermione’s chin in her hands and turning her in for a proper kiss. 

Hermione wriggles out of her grasp, turning crimson at the public display of affection. “Your sister’s right here!”

But Narcissa is busy flourishing her quill, making a list on a piece of conjured parchment, paying them no heed. “She doesn’t mind,” Bella soothes. “Besides…how do you know I didn’t just want to show her your fangs?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione scoffs, “I had a hunch.”

Bella chuckles, taking her chin again. “Come on, say ‘aaahhh’…let’s have a look at those baby fangs, yeah?”

Hermione glares at her before finally obliging. 

“Ooooh! Look, Cissy, they’re so little!” Bella exclaims, dragging her index finger along a slightly sharper than average canine. Narcissa peers over and smiles. Up close, Hermione notices for the first time how much longer and sharper Narcissa’s are. She instinctively shuts her mouth and shrinks away, making Narcissa grin.

“Not to worry, darling, yours will look like this in time. I’ve had much longer for them to grow in than you have.” 

“Yes,” Bella agrees playfully, “You’ll have a big scary smile too in no time.” Hermione hits her on the arm.

“Now,” Narcissa says, scrawling down a few final things on her parchment, “here’s a list of things you’ll need to get started—you can find them all in Diagon Alley.” She makes to hand it to Hermione.

“Or Knockturn,” Bellatrix quips, intercepting the list and looking it over. 

“Yes,” Narcissa sniffs. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you, I have a meeting—”

“What meeting?” interjects Bella.

“—but Bella will know just what to stock up on. This list is for you—“ she snatches it back from her sister and hands it to Hermione. “—to familiarize yourself with it all.”

Hermione takes it gratefully, eyes immediately drinking in the list. “Thank you,” she says earnestly. “Really, I…this is such a help.”

Narcissa pats her cheek. “Of course, dear.” She summons an elf and retrieves her coat. “It was really a pleasure to meet you. I’ll leave you both to it—“

“I’ll walk you out,” Bellatrix says at once, standing.

“That would be lovely, _Andromeda_ , thank you.” 

“Very nice to meet you, Narcissa,” Hermione calls after them, returning her attention to the list. She can hear Bellatrix hiss _“What meeting?”_ as the sisters walk down the hall.

Bellatrix returns several minutes later, looking distracted. “Alright?” Hermione asks.

“Hmm? Yes! Perfectly fine. Have you finished your tea?” 

Hermione peers into her mug. “Yes. Oh, I wanted to ask — the elves that prepared it — do you pay them?"

That startles Bellatrix into silence for a moment, and Hermione hurriedly continues, "I'm so sorry; that's a stupid question. Of course you do, I didn't mean to suggest—anyway, if I'm going to be staying here, I'd like to contribute to their wages, at the very least." She pauses, red-faced. "If that's alright." She blushes deeper at Bellatrix's continued stunned silence. "It's a cause I'm passionate about."

Blinking herself out of this stupor, Bellatrix nods slowly. Wary of entering a debate on elvish rights with this delicious new addition to her house, she settles on a noncommittal "Sure."

Hermione beams wide enough for the lie to be worth it. " _Thank_ you!" 

Bellatrix gives a curt nod in response. “Right then!" she grins triumphantly, offering her arm and conjuring a thick black umbrella. “Let’s go into town, shall we?”


	3. You Have Me Confused

Hermione had been to Diagon Alley many times, but never in her current condition.

The lull between the start of term and the holidays means it isn’t terribly busy. She’s not sure if that makes them a less or more conspicuous sight, walking around underneath a thick black umbrella on a cool, sunny day. Her traveling cloak is black, made of an unseasonably thick velvet, an enchanted thing dug out of one of the manor’s dozens of closets. (“One of Cissy’s old things from when she first turned — you’ll never get burnt in this!” her new friend had chirped cheerily as she helped her into it.) 

She’s been promised a roof over her head, new clothing, potions to help her adjust—not to mention all of her requests to get the bill for meals have been dismissed with a flippant wave of a hand.

“I’m not poor, you know,” she snaps after Bellatrix slaps her hand when she tries to buy their tea.

“Yes you are.”

“Well—I’m not _broke,_ ” she amends lamely. “It’s been less than 24 hours and I already feel unreasonably indebted to you. The least you could do is let me buy you a cup of tea.”

Bellatrix gives her a sympathetic, pouty smile. “Aww, pet. Have I wounded your pride?” 

Hermione shoves her so she won’t see her smile against her will, making Bellatrix laugh, “Very well then, the next purchase is on you.”

‘The next purchase’ turns out to be a 65 galleon pair of enchanted sunglasses. Hermione glowers as Bellatrix slides the money across the counter, not attempting to hide her smirk at all. 

On their way out of the shop, while Bellatrix fiddles with the umbrella, Hermione quite literally bumps into a man bustling by. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she instinctively exclaims, even though it was entirely the man’s fault.

He gives her a furtive glance. “Not to worry, not to—“ his eyes meet Bellatrix’s and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh, hello B—“

“Travers!” Bellatrix interrupts far too loudly. She shoves the handle of the umbrella into Hermione’s hand and swoops in to kiss him roughly on both cheeks, then hisses in his ear: _“Make yourself scarce or I’ll tell your wife exactly what you were no doubt just doing in Knockturn.”_ She pulls away with a grin, keeping her eyes insane enough to confirm the seriousness of her threat.

The man pales in a trice. “Well, m-must be off—

“Always lovely to see you,” Bellatrix drawls, smiling even wider as he hurries off.

Hermione watches him go, perplexed. “You’re not going to introduce me?”

“Hmm?” Bellatrix takes the umbrella back from her. “No. Useless prat. Besides, you heard him,” she says flippantly, leading them down the alley in the opposite direction. “He’s busy.”

Narcissa’s list was extensive enough to begin with, but Bellatrix can’t help but add more as they go along. While Hermione dutifully gets fitted for robes at Twilfitt & Tattings — only robes, like they agreed on—her companion skulks off to the lingerie section and returns with an embarrassingly large haul—and a shit-eating grin to match.

Later on, while they enjoy biscuits and croissants (that Hermione insists on buying) at a café, Bellatrix catches Hermione staring wistfully out the window. “What is it?”

“Hmm?” Hermione is roused. “Nothing! Just thinking.”

Bellatrix cocks her head. “Is there something else you need?”

“Absolutely not! You do realize you’re not replacing everything I own, yes? I’ve got some things you haven’t seen yet, I just have to…move them.” She swallows. “Besides, you’ve gotten me far more than I need…I can’t imagine why. I can’t imagine why I’ve _let_ you…” Hermione seems to realize she’s speaking more to herself than Bellatrix and clears her throat. “I’m not the sort to just take things for free,” she adds defensively, going a bit pink in the cheeks.

“Well,” Bellatrix says, leaning back in her chair as she snaps a biscuit between her teeth. “It’s not entirely free, is it?”

Hermione frowns; it takes her a minute to understand. Then astonishment explodes across her face. “I’m not your _prostitute!_ ”

Bellatrix cackles while Hermione fumes. “Of course not, darling. I enjoy your company even when you’re clothed.”

Hermione throws a biscuit at her. 

They chat harmlessly for a few more minutes, but it doesn’t take long before Hermione is gazing out the window again, and this time Bellatrix follows her eyes, landing on a dingy old bookshop nestled between Fortescue’s and Eeylop’s, the one no one ever prefers over Flourish & Blotts. “Do you want a book from that shop?”

“No!” Hermione answers far too quickly. “No,” Hermione insists, unfazed by the narrowing of Bellatrix’s eyes. 

“Yes,” Bellatrix counters, standing up resolutely and dragging Hermione out of the café. She thrusts open their umbrella and hauls the girl across the street, emboldened by the fact that her protests are only halfhearted.

A bell dings as Bella shoves open the door, but no one emerges from behind the counter. Bellatrix sniffs distastefully, disliking the scent of sawdust lingering about the place. “Terrible place for a bookshop,” she mutters, brushing imagined dust off her robes. “There really ought to be more than one shop between an ice creamery and an owlery…” when she gets no response, she turns to see Hermione lost in wonder, already melting into the nearest shelf. Her entire demeanor has shifted and she seems to whir to life. Bella even catches the girl inhaling the pages of the book like a drug, and she can’t help but smile. “I have a library, you know.”

Hermione lowers the book and turns to beam at Bellatrix, her smile far less bashful than its predecessors. “You do? Why didn’t you take me there first?”

“We were rather preoccupied,” is the drawling response.

Hermione shrugs as she runs a finger across the volumes on the nearest shelf. “Is there a rule against multitasking in your manor?”

Bellatrix’s jaw falls open. “Cheeky!”

Hermione giggles as she rounds the corner into another aisle, Bellatrix in hot pursuit.

A half hour later, Hermione settles on two books, even though there were about fifty Bellatrix thinks she would have liked. “I can pay for these,” Hermione says firmly.

Bellatrix doesn’t smack Hermione’s hand away. She can see how much this means to her. Instead she offers gently, “But I’d like to.” 

The softness of her tone startles Hermione to look into her eyes. The look she finds there is even more startling. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “Really. But I’d really like to do it for myself.”

The woman nods and relents, for which Hermione is grateful.

The shopkeeper finally emerges from behind the counter, a wizened old thing who looks as though they've been working here since -- 

Oh, fuck.

"YOU!" the old crone wheezes, pointing a trembling twig of a finger at Bellatrix. Hermione looks between them, alarmed.

Bellatrix plays it off, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, she does this all the time," she reassures Hermione. "For the last time, Doris, you have me confused with my sister."

"I...oh." The woman slowly lowers her hand, patting the sweat off her wrinkled brow. "My apologies, Andromeda."

"Accepted," Bellatrix says cheerily, delighted with her success. Hermione pays, still bewildered. 

When Doris turns her back to fumble at the register, Hermione leans into Bella and whispers, "You and Narcissa don't really look very much alike."

Bellatrix shrugs, examining her fingernails with a forced nonchalance she does not feel. "When you're that old I guess everyone starts to blend together." She pauses, then throws in, "Besides, Narcissa isn't a natural blonde."

It's not a lie. And Hermione seems to buy it.

They exit the shop and Hermione turns to look over her shoulder at it one last time. “That was really nice,” she says wistfully. “I haven’t been in a bookshop in ages…they’re never open when…well. When I can go out,” she mumbles.

Bellatrix chews her lip thoughtfully. “You know I could just buy that for you.”

Hermione rounds on her, fuming now, but unable to step too far out of the umbrella’s shade. “What did I just say! I’m more than capable of buying books for myself, and happy to do it! I don’t know what you have in mind exactly, but I didn’t come here to be your—“

“No, baby,” Bellatrix brushes her anger off entirely. “The shop.”

That stops Hermione dead in her tracks. “The—you mean—you could—“ she looks back at the shop breathlessly. “The whole thing?”

Bellatrix grins. “The whole damn thing.”

“I—you—“ Hermione stammers for a few moments more before asking, “You would do that?”

The girl’s ignorance is really something, Bellatrix marvels as she circles an arm around her waist. “Pet, trust me when I say it’s really no trouble.” She’s still too stunned to respond. “Actually,” Bella continues, an idea forming in her head. “This could work out beautifully…might you feel better about our little arrangement—“ 

“I’m still not sure what that is,” Hermione interrupts weakly.

“—if you had some sort of…means of employment?”

Hermione blinks. “Like a job?”

Bellatrix mimes sounding out the word. “Job…is that what you call it?”

Too excited to acknowledge the woman’s deliberate aloofness, Hermione exclaims, “A job in a _bookshop?!_ ” She throws her arms around Bella’s neck and kisses her for all she’s worth, nearly making her drop the umbrella. “Oh, thank you, thank you, _thank you_ —!” 

Bellatrix laughs into the kiss, delighted at the response. “If I’d known it would make you this happy I would’ve offered hours ago.”

They stroll back to the entrance arm in arm, chatting about names for the shop, when Hermione sees something that stops her dead in her tracks.

“Is 'Between the Lines' too sexual? Or—“ Bellatrix jerks to a halt beside her companion, who has gone completely white. “Hermione?” When she follows the girl’s eyeline, her heart sinks.

Hanging limply on a brick wall is a poster. It’s torn at the edges, faded to nearly nothing, the face in the picture not moving half as naturally as it used to, but the faint text is still legible.

WANTED: BELLATRIX LESTRANGE.


	4. Chapter 4

They land in the sitting room of her manor with a crash, the umbrella clattering to the floor. Bellatrix Apparated them away from Diagon before Hermione could cause a real scene, but they struggled enough to risk Splinching. 

The girl recovers surprisingly quickly, barrel-rolling away from Bellatrix and immediately brandishing her wand.

Ignoring this, Bella immediately asks, “Are you hurt?”, which infuriates her new friend. And they’d been getting on so well.

“Am _I—_?” Hermione is so red Bellatrix thinks she may explode. “You’re the one who should worry about getting hurt!”

Not hurt, then. “There’s no need to shout, darling,” Bella placates, taking a step forward, hands raised in surrender.

“STOP! Don’t — don’t move!” 

Bella rolls her eyes, but obeys. Hermione is breathing heavily, her arm trembling. “I knew I recognized you. I _knew_ it. You’re….you’re…”

The older woman folds her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?” 

“You’re _Bellatrix Lestrange!_ ” Hermione bursts out. 

Bellatrix shrugs, throwing her hands in the air and letting them slap back down against her sides. “Caught me!”

She can see Hermione’s mind working overtime, her eyes never leaving Bellatrix’s but darting all over her, as if figuring out where to click in the last piece of a puzzle. “But…your sister. She called you Andromeda,” she breathes. 

At least Bellatrix has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed about this. “I asked her to.” 

Hermione’s face falls. “She was in on it?” 

“In on what? There was no grand conspiracy; I simply told her what name I gave you and she graciously went along.”

“And the shopkeeper—“

“—Has never forgiven me from one teensy little incident that happened years ago,” Bellatrix finishes for her, begrudgingly adding, “although it does help that Andromeda and I look _somewhat_ alike.”

“You have another sister?” Hermione frowns, then catches herself. “I—no, that doesn’t matter! You’re a criminal!!”

That pisses Bellatrix off. “Says who? You like to read so much; what rubbish have you had your nose in lately? I thought you might be a bit cleverer than that.”

And that pisses Hermione off. “I’ve determined that for myself, thank you very much! Pillaging villages, rounding people up and putting them in camps, just because they’re Muggleborn—“

“I had nothing to do with _any_ of that—“

“—oh, so the people who did are just your mates, then? That’s a laugh—“

”—personally couldn’t care less about blood status—“

“Really?” Hermione draws herself up to full height. “Then I don’t suppose you’d be bothered by the fact that _I_ happen to be Muggleborn?”

Her declaration does stun Bellatrix into silence for a moment. Then she bursts into peals of laughter, clutching her stomach, leaving Hermione utterly bewildered. She nearly lowers her wand, then thinks better of it. Eventually, Bellatrix gets it out of her system. Regaining her composure, she wipes away tears of laughter before replying, “Pet, do you honestly think I’d care about your blood status when I already know you’re a _vampire_?” 

Now it’s Hermione’s turn for stunned silence as she mulls this point over.Pureblood fanatics, like Bellatrix is supposed to be, are notoriously bigoted towards any other sort of magical creature. Having a kink for one isn’t unheard of, but…taking them around shopping in public? Letting them share their home? 

A very reluctant half-smile cracks across Hermione’s face. “I suppose that makes sense,” she relents warily, finally letting her wand arm lower to her side.

Bellatrix mirrors her smile happily. Raising her arms and her eyebrows, she asks, “May I approach?”

Hermione nods, but changes her mind after a few steps. “Wait. No. I don’t know.” Bellatrix stops at once. They’re only about two feet apart, but Hermione can barely meet her eyes, so the distance feels unbridgeable.

“What do you say,” Bellatrix suggests quietly, “we talk about this over some tea?”

Reluctantly, Hermione raises her gaze. After a long moment, she nods almost imperceptibly. Bellatrix wants to take her hand, but senses her touch is unwelcome at the moment, so she simply turns and heads for the sitting room, knowing Hermione will follow.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“I expect you’ve some questions,” Bellatrix begins a few moments later, when they’re seated across from each other at her kitchen table. It’s still a bit too “interrogation” for her liking, but more civil than before. Their wands are sheathed, at least.

Hermione watches as Bella pours two mugs of tea, her eyes following the steam rising from the kettle and dissipating against the skylight. 

While it’s very cute, they have business to attend to. “Hermione.”

Startled out of her reverie, the girl jerkily reaches for her mug. “Sorry. Thanks.” She takes a sip just to have something to do, but scalds herself. “ _Ouch!_ Shit. Yes, I’ve got questions.”

Bellatrix immediately whips out her wand, and Hermione jolts again in fear, spilling more tea over herself. “Don’t—shit—shitshitshit! OUCH! _DON’T _—oh,” she decrescendos lamely once she realizes the older woman is simply performing a mild cooling spell. Bella quirks an eyebrow and Hermione flushes.__

__“Are you a witch or not?” the dark witch asks, teasing but certainly not unkindly._ _

__Hermione rolls her eyes and takes a much more enjoyable sip. “Thank you,” she mutters, humiliated. Bellatrix’s resounding cackle stokes her need to regain control over their conversation, so she immediately launches into, “Are you a murderer?”_ _

__The laughter stops at once. “What a naïve question.” She’s not teasing anymore; this is colder._ _

__“Is that a yes?” Hermione presses. Bellatrix’s eyes narrow. She takes a long sip of tea before answering._ _

__“If everyone who’s ever sacrificed for a cause they believe in is a murderer,” she says slowly, “then yes, I suppose I am.”_ _

__“It’s not a _sacrifice_ when it’s somebody else’s life!” Hermione explodes._ _

__“Be careful treading in woods you’ve never wandered, love,” Bellatrix warns lowly. “You’ve no idea what I’ve had to do.”_ _

__Hermione’s head is spinning. She can’t believe she’s having tea with a murderer—granted, someone she already knew was a murderer, but now just confessed to being a murderer, live, in the first person. “Nobody ever _has_ to kill anyone.” _ _

__Bellatrix can’t help but laugh at her ignorance. “Yes, let’s talk about all the change that’s been won with bloodless wars.”_ _

__“That kind of change is possible!” Hermione fumes. “I’ve seen it! I know people who want to bring about that sort of change. I work with them.” Her eyes unfocus somewhere beyond Bella’s shoulder as the reality of her allegiance sinks in. “I work with people who…… hell, I _am_ people who want you in prison!”_ _

__This catches Bellatrix’s attention. Fuck. “What do you mean?” she asks sharply. “What people? What work? I thought you were unemployed.”_ _

__“Oh, is that threatening to you?” Hermione challenges. “Did you only feel safe with me because you thought I didn’t have any money? Can only handle a vampire who’s been financially castrated?”_ _

__“What the hell are you talking about?” is Bellatrix’s bewildered response. “I don’t care about your money; I’m happy to help you regardless. It’s these people I’m interested in.”_ _

__Hermione goes pink again, having projected her own securities far too quickly and far too obviously. “Oh.” She shuffles in her chair a bit to regain some composure, sipping her tea casually, trying not to tip her hand so quickly. “I’m … the work is… it’s more political work. Activism.” When Bellatrix doesn’t answer, she continues, “They don’t pay me.”_ _

__Bellatrix leans back from the table, scrutinizing her. “Are you in the Order?”_ _

__Hermione chokes on her tea. Bellatrix jumps to her feet, slamming her palms down on the table. But she’s not angry, not defensive — she’s triumphant. The most confusing possible response._ _

__“You’re going to lecture me on the nobility of not killing when you’re with the bloody Order?!” she lets out a mirthless laugh._ _

__“They’ve only ever done so in self defense—“_ _

__“—self righteous bunch of Gryffindors; I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner—“_ _

__“—wouldn’t have to kill at all if it weren’t for _your_ lot—“_ _

__“—amazing, what a bit of brainwashing can do to you—“_ _

__“—Brainwashed?” Hermione screeches, loudly enough to startle Bellatrix into silence. “How many times do I have to tell you — I can think for _myself_!” she’s heated now. Bellatrix would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little turned on. “And at least the Order stands for something. Your entire movement is built on racism—“_ _

__Bellatrix cackles over the rest of Hermione’s sentence. “You have been brainwashed! That is complete propaganda stirred up by your side.” Her eyes shining with the passion of a missionary, she elaborates: “The goal isn’t subjugation, it’s true equality. Wizards and Muggles, living side by side — no more Statute of Secrecy, no more hiding, no more stigma around interblood marriages! Your side would rather keep us in the dark, so a few power hungry wizards at the top can influence the Muggle world from afar, while the rest of us suffer.”_ _

__A deep frown is etched on Hermione’s face as she absorbs this for the first time. “I…I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you,” she amends._ _

__Bellatrix throws up her hands. “What makes you believe _them_?”_ _

__“Because I _know_ them! Because I’ve spent time with them, because—“_ _

__“Then spend time with me,” Bellatrix implores, taking the girl’s hands in her own. “Let me show you another way.”_ _

__“I don’t _want_ another way!” Hermione rages. “You expect me to buy this narrative where you’re some kind of…soldier for equality?!” she gestures around wildly, indicating their surroundings. “You live in a mansion!” _ _

__Scoffing, Bellatrix retorts, “As if poverty were a prerequisite for revolution.”_ _

__A noise of incomprehensible frustration escapes Hermione. “There are some things that are just right and wrong, and even if you personally don’t subscribe to blood purity, plenty of your friends do.”_ _

__“And you think yours don’t? Do you have any idea—“ Bellatrix stops herself and leans over the table, making Hermione shrink back in her chair. “Oh. Perhaps you don’t. Perhaps their newer pups aren’t privy to the darker underbelly of things.”_ _

__“What are you talking about,” Hermione says flatly, bracing herself for…a lie? Apart from the very glaring omission of her true name, Bellatrix doesn’t seem to have lied to her about anything._ _

__Their eyes are locked, and they stay silent for a few moments. “The Longbottoms—”_ _

__They’ve spoken in unison, and it makes them jump. It’s too eerie for either of them to laugh. “You first,” Bellatrix prods warily._ _

__Shaking off the shock, Hermione bursts out, “You _tortured_ them!” When Bellatrix shakes her head and protests “no”, Hermione talks over her. “Yes you did, I’ve met them—“_ _

__“ _No!_ ” Bellatrix hisses, dropping back in her chair and scooting it closer to Hermione’s. “I was there. I admit it. I know who did it. I was casing the house and by the time I got back they had already begun.” Hermione is gaping at her, torn. She continues. “There was a baby in the house—”_ _

__“Neville,” Hermione whispers._ _

__“—that’s why I stopped them,” Bellatrix insists. “I won’t lie to you. I’m not sure I would have stopped the others if I hadn’t found the baby. We were all younger then, and angrier, and at the end of the day … they had information we needed.” She’s speaking very quickly, but very earnestly, and Hermione is drinking up every word, seeming to feed off the catharsis this is clearly bringing Bellatrix._ _

__“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done,” the woman concedes, looking wearier by the second. “But — and this is what you need to understand — it was, in part, retaliation for something _they’d_ done.”_ _

__Bellatrix sees Hermione gasp more than she hears it, sees the sharp intake of breath constrict her chest. But she doesn’t say anything._ _

__“Would you like me to show you?” Bella tries._ _

__Stricken but intrigued, Hermione nods._ _

__Gently, Bellatrix reaches out a hand and opens her mind. “Come in.”_ _

__After a moment’s hesitation, Hermione obliges._ _

__——————————————————————————————————————————————_ _

__It doesn’t take long. Hermione watches and listens to about ten minutes before she gasps, “Stop.”_ _

__Bella withdraws her from her mind as gingerly as she can. When they are face to face, Hermione’s eyes are brimming with tears. Poor thing, Bella thinks. That’ll happen when you watch people you’ve admired for years — granted, the younger, worst versions of themselves — say words and cast spells you never imagined them capable of._ _

__“I didn’t…I never…”_ _

__Finally sensing that her touch would be welcomed, Bellatrix envelops the girl in her arms. “Hush. It’s alright.”_ _

__Hermione breaks and weeps, her tears dampening the soft skin of Bella’s neck. “That d-doesn’t even sound like them. It sounds so wrong coming from them.”_ _

__“And maybe they never talk like that now,” Bellatrix grants. “But at one point, they said and did terrible things. As did I.” She strokes the girl’s soft hair. “And that’s what we use to hurt each other’s causes…old stories, more legend than fact. In all honesty, we haven’t had anything concrete to throw at one another in years. All rumors and backdoor dealings…”_ _

__She can’t tell if Hermione is listening to her or not, but continues anyway. The talking is for her own comfort as much as the girl’s._ _

__Eventually, their closeness shifts into something different. Hermione is breathing more heavily. Bellatrix hand in her hair stills. She takes the girl’s chin in her hand and tilts her red eyes upward. “You’re hungry.”_ _

__Hermione shakes her head fervently, not wanting to spoil the moment, sickened by the sudden, inappropriate desire that surged when she got too close to Bella’s throat._ _

__Bella nods, a small smile creeping onto her face. “It’s alright,” she soothes. “It’s nearly been a whole day…”_ _

__“No, please,” Hermione begs. “I don’t want to…I can last longer than that,” she insists, even as she begins to pant, her pupils nearly swallowing her eyes._ _

__Bella makes a tsk noise, daring to snake a hand around the girl’s trembling waist. “But why deny yourself?” she husks into the shell of her ear. “You don’t have to do that anymore…” she takes Hermione’s earlobe in her mouth, massaging it between her teeth. “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”_ _

__She tugs gently at Hermione’s waist, coaxing her off the chair and into Bella’s lap. A shaky, rattling sigh escapes the girl as she buries her face into Bella’s throat hungrily once again. It had been so much easier to give in last night, under the cloak of night, the alcohol running through her veins emboldening her. She was more vulnerable now, in more ways than one, and it terrified her._ _

__But when Bella’s arm secures her body tightly to her own and her other hand brushes her thigh, making her shake, she begins to give in._ _

__“Oh…” she whispers to the thundering pulse point below her lips. She begins to salivate as Bella slowly massages up her inner thigh, strokes a thumb along the line of her underwear, then cruelly slips along the back, sliding up and squeezing her ass before delivering a sharp smack. “ _Oh_!” _ _

__Bellatrix growls, rocking the girl against her as she slides her fingers back along her underwear, snapping as she goes. “Come now,” she encourages. “I feel just the way you do…we can both give each other what we want.”_ _

__Hermione is licking her lips, nearly drooling on Bellatrix’s skin. The woman begins to rub two fingers slowly, torturously against the front of her rapidly dampening underwear. “I can feel you,” she whispers._ _

__“So can I,” Hermione responds breathily._ _

__Bellatrix grins, thrilled to get a verbal response. She casts a wordless spell, simply by making a cutting motion with her fingers, and the underwear falls away. Hermione keens when her fingers touch her, skin to skin. “I can smell you.”_ _

__“So can I,” Hermione echoes._ _

__Nipping her ear, Bellatrix adds, “And I can’t wait to taste you again.”_ _

__Hermione finally bites her, reveling in Bellatrix’s delighted cries. She sheaths her long fingers in Hermione’s cunt, and can feel the girl moan even as her teeth are sunk deep into her neck. She begins to pump in and out as Hermione feeds, ecstasy flooding through both their bodies. When she feels the tight warmth begin to flutter around her, she rubs the girl’s clit with her thumb, gently, steadily, to draw it out._ _

__It’s still much quicker than the last time, but arguably more intense. Hermione collapses against her almost violently, wrenching out her fangs and closing up the wound with magic once again. Bellatrix withdraws her fingers slowly, with one last flick to the clit that makes Hermione jump. Chuckling, she lifts her hand slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time, and slips the shiny digits into her mouth._ _

__“Mmmm.” She swirls her tongue around, gathering the taste, then withdraws them with a pop. Her hooded eyes darkening, she begins to paint Hermione’s lips with the same fingers. Before she can finish, they’re kissing again._ _


End file.
